


The Politician and the Truck Driver

by organanation



Series: The Politician and the Truck Driver [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Earth AU, F/M, Leia has a nightmare, fix the force awakens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8137660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/organanation/pseuds/organanation
Summary: Han knew the drill. Leia had always had horrid nightmares, and he'd spent the last 35 years in bed beside her through every imaginable horror.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's no secret that I hate TFA.

“I know what I need to do, but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it. Will you help me?” She was right there, watching the scene unfold, her estranged husband on the left and her fallen son on the right. Anything, Ben. We’ll do anything."

“Yes. Anything,” Han answered. Ben extended his lightsaber towards Han and Han reached out to take it from him. Yes. I knew there was still good in him. Come home, Ben."

Suddenly, the red blade exploded from the hilt. Han’s face contorted in pain even as he reached out and brushed his fingers over his son’s face. Han started to fall and Leia suddenly realized that they were suspended thousands of meters in the air. She reached out to catch him, but missed by millimeters. She watched helplessly as the love of her life fell into the abyss below."

“Han! No!!” The screams ripped through her lungs, but she couldn’t stop them.

“Leia.” Ben had a hold of her now, too, and was pushing her towards the great chasm.

“No!” She fought back but found her arms pinned to her sides.

“Leia.” He repeated. He sounded so like his father. “Leia, sweetheart, open your eyes.” It was a gentle command.

“Ben, what have you done?” She yelled, feeling tears stream down her cheeks.

“Leia, it’s Han. Wake up, Leia.” Han. The hands tightly gripping her at the shoulders weren’t those of her son trying to force her of the edge, but Han’s, trying to keep her from tumbling out of bed.

“Han?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Come on, you’re gonna fall,” he coaxed gently. She realized that they were perched on the foot of the bed. “That’s it. It was just a nightmare.” He soothed quietly. She looked into his weathered face. She was slightly relieved to find no pain or fear written there, just quiet concern.

“You’re okay?” She asked quietly.

“I’m just fine.” He assured her. Han knew the drill. Leia had always had horrid nightmares, and he’d spent the last 35 years in bed beside her through every imaginable horror. They’d startled him considerably at the beginning of their relationship, but eventually, he’d grown used to them. Whether she was able to wake herself or needed to be shaken back to reality, she would seek comfort in a warm and safe embrace

Leia was looking at him with wide eyes, as if she wasn’t sure he was real.

“I’m right here, sweetheart, and I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He promised her quietly, offering a hand to prove he was there in the flesh. She took it cautiously and he tugged her back up to the head of the bed. Han guided her gently towards him until they were both stretched out together, chest to chest, sharing his pillow. His hand worked small circles into her back beneath her night gown.

Secure in the knowledge that he wasn’t going to turn to dust before her eyes, she returned his embrace with one arm and brushed the fingers of her other hand over his chest. She found no gaping wound, no new pink scar.

“We were on Starkiller base…and…he—he stabbed you with his lightsaber, Han.” She mumbled.

“It was just a dream, Leia,” Han soothed. “Starkiller base…lightsabers…I think you should probably stop watching Star Trek for a few days, sweetheart.”

“Han, where are we?” He was used to the disorientation, too. Leia’s nightmares were so real that she often couldn’t differentiate dream from reality for several minutes.

“We’re in bed in the motorhome. We’re driving Route 66, like we always said we were going to when we retired,” he told her.

“Is Ben okay?” She whispered.

“Ben? Ben who?” He asked.

“No, Ben our so—we don’t have a son. We don’t have any children at all.” They’d had never been able to have children of their own.

“Well, we do have Poe.” He reminded her. Poe Dameron. He was the son of Kes and Shara Dameron. Shara had been Leia’s roommate in college. Kes was in the Air Force and had been killed in action when

Poe was a child. Shara had died in a car crash five years later. Han and Leia had taken Poe in and raised him as their own ever since. Now, he worked in the Pentagon, and he was as much their son as any natural child would have been.

“What about Chewie?”

“My dog? Sweetheart, Chewie’s been gone for years.” Something whined from the edge of the bed. “But we’ve got Malla, now.” Chewie and Malla were both huge dogs, covered in fluffy brown hair that got on everything. Han had found Chewie when he was just a puppy long before he met Leia. Chewie had been a part of the family for almost 14 years before they’d had to put him down. They’d adopted Malla a few years later. They were both mutts (Leia was convinced they were part bear), and had hearts even bigger than their stomachs. The entire camper rocked back and forth as Malla threw all 150lbs of herself onto Leia’s side of the bed and shoved her wet nose by Leia’s ear.

Reality was coming back into focus. Han wasn’t a reformed space pirate; he was a retired truck driver. She wasn’t a galactic princess; she was a former New York senator. Now, they were doing what they always wanted to do: traveling together, not worrying about being back in time to pick up the next trailer load or for the Senate to resume. Spending a few days at each remote little campground doing whatever they wanted to, whenever they wanted to...driving all over the country, meeting real people that weren't trying to play angles or push agendas. Seeing her brother, a priest, more than once every Christmas. Taking off for someplace romantic for a few days on a whim.

“You didn’t leave me for a few years? We didn’t have some big knock-down-drag-out fight that sent you packing?” She asked. Han chuckled.

“We’ve had some knock-down-drag-outs before, but I haven’t ever started packing because of one of them. I don’t think I could leave you if you wanted me to,” he reassured her, squeezing her tight. He loved that they still fit perfectly together even though they’d both changed over the years.

Luke hadn’t disappeared, and she didn’t have a son who’d fallen to the dark side. Han hadn’t left her and he hadn’t fallen into an endless chasm.

She pushed a hand into his gray hair and pulled his lips to hers.

All was well.


End file.
